


Law Firm

by H_Malfreaky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_Malfreaky/pseuds/H_Malfreaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are those marks on your wrist?” Derek blurted out after a moment of silence. Stiles looked up at him confused and then nervously. </p>
<p>“What?” He faltered. Derek pointed down to his hands with a lazy finger.</p>
<p>“I saw them earlier and I just caught a glimpse now. You have marks on your wrists. What are they?” Derek asked more forcefully.</p>
<p>“They’re nothing, there’s no need to worry about them.” Stiles replied. He looked up at Derek, who was looking down at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decode. Stiles swallowed hard under the pressure. “Would you like me to grab that water for you now?” He asked sheepishly, needing to clear his throat and restart.</p>
<p>Derek looked him up and down once more before turning back to his office. “Thanks,” was all he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Law Firm

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not really sure if I want to continue with this, so I'm kind of leaving it up to you. If you like it and would like to read more, please please please comment that. If not, thank you for investing the time to read it.
> 
> Also, just to note, this fic will have a BDSM twist and plot line. If you'd like to it that way, please say so. If not, comment where else you'd think it should go. I'm kinda open to whatever. Thank you and I'm sorry about the length of this.

Stiles looked at himself in the mirror nervously. Everything looked good, he looked good, but he couldn’t shake the butterflies. He had worked in offices before, but never one quite as prestigious and the Hale Law firm. Everyone knew about the Hale family. Talia had been an influential lawyer in the area and after the accident that had killed the whole family, her only son, Derek, and his uncle, Peter kept the company going. When Stiles had gotten the offer to temp as an office assistant for the firm it was no surprise to anyone that he accepted, and it didn’t hinder his decision any that both were good looking men.

So, here Stiles was, ten minutes early and passing time in the men’s bathroom. He fidgeted with his shirt, tucking and re-tucking it about four different times. He checked his hair, collar, and necktie about twenty times each and even redid his tie, opting for a full Winsor instead of his lazy man's knot, as to not come across as a messy college student. Which, unfortunately, he basically was.

Stiles looked back down at his watch, cursing to himself. He had four minutes to get upstairs and to get to the right office. Stiles dashed out of the bathroom rather gracelessly, bumping into a man on his way to the elevator.

“I am so sorry, Sir,” Stiles said as he turned briefly towards the man, again cursing him to himself. Because, Stiles couldn’t run into a normal business man, no, he had to run into the man who was going to be paying him; Peter Hale. To make things worse, Derek was right behind him.

“Hey, what’s…?” Derek started, coming up behind Peter who was now looking solely at Stiles, half amused and half annoyed. “Oh.” He sighed in much a similar tone as Peter’s face was giving off.

“Sir, I am so sorry.” Stiles reiterated, bending over and picking up the man’s briefcase.

“Its fine, we all make mistakes,” Peter said, his tone soft. “Besides, this saves us from the awkward introductions in the office.” He chuckled, taking his briefcase from Stiles. 

Stiles smiled at that, able to acknowledge the man’s joke despite his immense embarrassment. “Yeah, I sure know how to make an impression.” He sighed. Peter laughed, much to his gratitude. He looked over at Derek who was still a bit confused. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Stiles…Stilinski. I’ll be your office assistant for the next three months.” He said, sticking out his hand to shake Derek’s hand, then Peter’s. Both smiled, but Stiles caught Derek looking at his wrist a bit weirdly. When he took his hand back, Stiles pulled the cuff of his shirt down further, hoping the marks weren’t visible. 

“Well, we should get to the office,” Peter said. He nodded towards the elevators with a smile. 

“Of course, and a pleasure.” Derek nodded to Stiles. His voice wasn’t as deep as Stiles imagined matching the close kept scruffily bearded man. It had a way of making his heart skip a beat though. He was definitely as handsome as his photos, if not more so. Stiles had to shake off a light haze as he followed behind the two. 

The elevator ride was awkward to say the least. Derek was clearly too caught up in his own head to notice that there were two other men in the elevator, Peter read through an article on his phone and Stiles just stood there looking like a cornered rabbit. The doors sliding open with a ding couldn’t come soon enough.

The doors opened directly into the actual office. A medium sized desk in the middle, only about ten feet away from the elevator doors, blocked the view to the rest of the floor. A large piece of frosted glass, floor to ceiling with HALE scrolled clear in the middle, was placed behind the desk. A few chairs were scattered around on both sides of the doors, making it a little waiting area. After passing the front desk, the floor opened up, leaving a larger hallway. In the middle of such were what Stiles could only call cubicles. They had desks facing the different offices. Two of them had girls sitting at them, working on different tasks that looked more like busy work to him. There were actually four offices total and then a large conference room at the end of the hallway. Each of the offices were decently sized and well furnished. There were a lot of windows, polished and clean. Whoever the interior designer was, Stiles had to give them props.

Derek had exited first the elevator first, going right to his office: the second on the left. As Stiles passed, he peeked in, noticing that the room wasn’t as furnished as the others giving it an almost barren look with the stark white walls everywhere. The one thing that made the office stand out among the rest was the desk and shelves. It was made out of a dark wood that almost didn’t match the furniture on the rest of the floor. Overall, the office was brightly lit and had a refreshingly hip vibe to the place. Stiles felt comfortable.

Peter took Stiles into the conference room and offered him a seat before sitting two chairs over at the head of the huge table. “Derek will be in soon enough. He had a case he needed to address before he could join us.” He said. “Anyway, you will be filling in the position of Derek’s assistant. Basically, you’ll be playing receptionist and coffee boy. In the broad sense of the position, Derek is low maintenance but he is a bit off-putting.” 

Stiles swallowed. “Oh, okay,” He said.

“You’ll be fine. The fact that he’s scared away his last three assistants shouldn’t faze you.” Peter said with a smirk. Derek walked in half way through the statement, glaring at his uncle. “Don’t be afraid, he can smell it on you.” Peter joked.

“Peter, have you ever thought that maybe I go through so many assistants because you plant that seed in every one of their minds?” Derek asked, clearly not amused. He turned his attention to Stiles. “I expect what I expect. I don’t feel that that is too much to ask.” Both of them were now looking right at Stiles.

“Um, I guess it’s not, though maybe how you go about asking for such may be part of the hesitance,” Stiles said almost sheepishly. 

Peter gave Derek a look of interest. “I like him. Keep this one, please.” He had a weirdly wicked grin playing at the corner of his mouth that Stiles’ was coming to assume was his normal look. 

“I would much rather you find me suited for the position rather than find me amusing.” Stiles chuckled to Derek. “Though, based off of your taste of furniture I’d say you could use a bit of amusement in your life.” 

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles’ comment. “And that means what exactly?” He asked.

“I…the wood used, I mean. It’s Indian Rosewood, right?” He stammered out, afraid he’d just blown his chances by pissing off the boss. Derek just nodded in response. “Well, that dark of a wood says something about a man.” Stiles continued.

“Agreed,” Derek stated simply.

“I’m more of mahogany guy myself. It has a smoother feel to me.” Stiles started to ramble before looking up to meet Derek’s slightly surprised face. “I mean…” He started but Derek just shook his head lightly, cutting him off. 

“The job is yours if you want it. I have to get back to work. Peter, will you show Stiles where to go and set him up?” Derek asked, rolling his head slightly to meet Peter’s smug face. He nodded and Derek left, leaving Stiles and Peter alone…again.

***

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Peter set Stiles up at the desk facing Derek’s office. He showed him where the small kitchen was, which almost resembled a break room, along with the restrooms. He informed Stiles that he would most likely be running random things here and there and that most of the time he could just read or get some school work done on the provided computer. He told him that he wouldn’t even have to answer the phone because ‘that’s why they had hired Becky.’ Stiles assumed that Becky was the girl positioned at the front desk. The only stipulation was that when Derek asked for something done, he was to do it. And Stiles was cool with that.

It was about half past 7 when Derek finally came out of his office. He hadn’t really asked for anything, and so Stiles had done as Peter suggested and started to get some of his school work done.

“What are you still doing here?” Derek asked blandly. “I thought you would have left a while ago.”

“Oh, um…” Stiles looked up and around him, noticing that even Becky had left for the night. “…I was just finishing up a paper. I hope I wasn’t bothering you.” He said looking back at Derek.

“No, I was just going to get a water. I thought you would have left with the girls.” Derek pointed to their now vacant desks.

“Wow,” Stiles said, finally bothering to look at the time. “I must have lost track of time.” He sighed. “How much later are you going to be working?” He asked.

“Probably about an hour, why?” Derek looked at him amusedly.

“Just wondering. I might as well stay and help you. You know, do my job.” He huffed out a small laugh.

Derek smiled. “You can if you wish. By the way, how did you know my furniture was Indian Rosewood?” He asked, leaning on the small lip, looking down at Stiles.

“I have a thing for wood.” Stiles shrugged then blushed, catching the innuendo too late. “I…I really didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m…I’m sorry. I just meant that I have an interest in wooden products and furniture. ” 

Derek laughed, head tilted back laughed. Stiles was taken back by it but liked it. 

“You have a nice laugh.” Stiles pointed out.

“Thanks, but don’t get too used to it. According to Peter, I’m a stick in the mud.” He said with a tilt of his eyebrows. He met Stiles’ eyes as he talked and Stiles blushed softly again.

“I wouldn’t go that far…” He started.

Derek cut him off with a look. 

“I wouldn’t say stick in the mud. Maybe, medieval king, but not a stick in the mud.” 

“What makes you say that?” Derek asked, his tone becoming amused and taking on an almost playfully wicked tone.

“Just…you have this air about you. It’s regal and demanding. Peter said you like things your way.” Stiles answered.

“That’s true, but I am open to working with someone. I’m not a total tyrant.” He replied.

“I didn’t mean to imply that, Sir. I’m sorry.” He said, looking down.

“What are those marks on your wrist?” Derek blurted out after a moment of silence. Stiles looked up at him confused and then nervously. 

“What?” He faltered. Derek pointed down to his hands with a lazy finger. “I saw them earlier and I just caught a glimpse now. You have marks on your wrists. What are they?” Derek asked more forcefully.

“They’re nothing, there’s no need to worry about them,” Stiles replied. He looked up at Derek, who was looking down at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decode. Stiles swallowed hard under the pressure. “Would you like me to grab that water for you now?” He asked sheepishly, needing to clear his throat and restart.

Derek looked him up and down once more before turning back to his office. “Thanks,” was all he said.


End file.
